She sat the remaining seven minutes of her break thinking about what she'd just learned about Seth. What if it was true? My God, who was this man? Could she trust her heart and body to Seth? What would it be like to be collared by a man like him? Disaster or ecstasy, but neither option guaranteed safety.
Chapter 15
Friday evening, Seth arrived late. A cold spring wind ushered him inside as it fluttered his hair and the hem of her robe. Closing the door behind him, he barely glanced her way as he stepped around her kneeling form. Tossing his jacket onto the couch, he headed down the hall to her bedroom.
"Follow, girl."
She obeyed.
He twitched aside the bedcovers, toed off his sneakers, and tugged his T-shirt over his head. Dropping it beside his shoes, he then collapsed onto the bed with a loud groan. The bed protested with a squeak of springs.
He took up a considerable amount of landscape on her bed, even more so when he began to stretch. He groaned and stretched, offering Abby a lovely exhibition of male muscle and skin. Eventually, he looked her way.
"Undress."
She did, letting her scarlet robe slip off her shoulders and pool at her feet. She stood before him, naked and awaiting his next command.
His gaze roved over her body. "Join me."
A wide smile tweaked her cheeks as she crawled into the bed beside him. In short order, she'd tucked herself against his gorgeous, brawny form. His right arm curled around her shoulders and he pulled her closer.
After a few moments, she stirred herself to speak. "Master, I packed away the stuff you left here last Thursday. It's over by the door."
He turned his head and must have spotted the shopping bag full of leather standing beside the door. "Well done, girl," he said.
She shivered her delight, his praise bubbling through her veins like champagne. She tried not to giggle like a tittering teen but...it just came out. Seth didn't seem to mind, though, because his fascinating dimple made an appearance. She twisted in his embrace, pressing her body against his, oh-so-casually making sure her nipple settled close enough to his mouth to be lapped should he feel the desire. He chuckled and made a slow lick around the pleading tip before sucking it into his mouth.
She arched into his touch, sighing her delight, every part of her body tingling as he lipped, suckled and nibbled. He reached with his left hand and found her breast, hefting and squeezing, plumping the breast and making her shiver from the pleasure. All day it had been unseasonably cool, but suddenly Abby felt quite hot.
"I like that you like my boobs," she confessed, shyness trying to tangle her tongue.
"That's good," he said, "because it wouldn't go well for you if you didn't like me touching them."
She laughed softly.
Seth traced his hand across her stomach, breasts, and legs, bringing murmurs from her throat. His mouth moved across her breasts, going from one nipple to the other, treating each to his attention and affection. He paused to put his hand to his mouth, wetting one finger and using it to delve into the folds of her pussy...and back out, as he traced her cunt juices across her vulva and thighs.
She shifted restlessly, her breath coming in pants, and lifted her hips from the bed, trying to recapture the sensation of his finger inside her. He obliged her wordless plea by slipping one inside her and working it in and out of her body. Sensation stormed her, a waterfall of brilliantly colored lights and ecstasy. He pulled free and resumed his erotic finger-painting. This happened a time or two or three until without warning--pop! His hand slapped down over her clit.
Arousal spun though her body, following a sizzle-path from clit to nipples and winding about her spine. His arousal-moistened finger resumed tracing her skin. He repeated the pattern and the slap, again and then again, each crack of his hand on her clit and labia sending a jolt across her nervous system.
She cried out with each impact, spreading her legs wider and bucking into the sensation. By the time he rolled over, coming to his knees between her thighs, she was on fire. "Oh, please," she urged, "more."
He caught her ankles and put her feet flat on the bed. She barely registered the act, needing someone--anyone--to play with her clit. That someone was her and she didn't hesitate. She put her fingers in place and began to rub the nerve-filled lips and the hard nub of her clitoris.
She heard him at his knees, his voice a rough command. "Beautiful. Come for me, girl."
She hurled into orgasm and that's when he penetrated, thrusting into her like a tsunami wave crashing onto the beach, shattering her world with his relentless, unstopping advance. Her climax went on and on, flooding her mind and stealing her breath.
Crouched above her, resting on his hands and knees, Seth trembled and bit down on a groan, his body turning marble hard beneath her hands as his breath stalled in his chest for a long moment. Had he come as well?
But apparently not because he tucked a hand beneath her hip and urged her against him and resumed shuttling his cock in and out of her body. He worked inside of her with just enough intensity to maintain his interest and to let her know he wasn't done. When she caught her breath, Abby tightened her pussy around him, determined to use her inner muscles to caress him into climax.
"Good girl," he said.
* * * *
Sitting back onto his heels, he spread her knees wide and watched his condom-sheathed fuckmeat penetrate the pink lips and clenching cunt. Using his thumbs, he spread her labia wider, baring her clit to the air, and leaned forward to blow a hot breath over the sensitive peak. She jumped and gasped, her pussy shivering around him.
He worked his cock into her body for a bit longer, intensifying her arousal until--pop! His hand once again descended onto her clitoris and threw her into a maelstrom.
"Ah, God, Master," she cried out.
Another slap across her labia jerked her into action. With hunger stealing any vestige of shyness, she moved her fingers to her slit, drawing pleasure from every stroke along her inner labia. Seth grabbed her wrists and set them beside her onto the bed, holding them there for a moment, just long enough for her to understand his silent instruction.
No fingering for her. Not this time.
"Please, Master," she gasped, raising her hips to meet his next hard thrust.
"When I tell you...not before," he said.
His hand came down again, creating within her an earthquake that flittered through the network of nerves linking her pussy with her mind. She cried out beneath him and twisted, seeking to press her overly sensitized clit against the base of his driving cock in an obvious bid for climax.
He eased away, adjusting his penetration angle. She whimpered her need, her cunt rippling along his cock in a most delicious way. He puffed another breath against her clit before flicking it with his thumb. The girl under his control begged and pleaded, but he didn't let up.
"Good girl," he said. "Reach for it."
Yet he pulled back from the edge of rapture. He set his back teeth and refused the glory of climax. Training was hard work for both of them. She was sobbing for release by the time he came over her and hilted with a firm thrust into her plumped and primed pussy. Finally, gave the order.
"Come for me, girl."
* * * *
She screamed as the orgasm rocketed through her, so hard, so intense her breath seized in her throat as her sensitized body shattered into shards of light. She clutched his forearms, her nails leaving red streaks along his skin. Above her, he grunted, his body hard and taut, an expression of rapture or torment carving his face.
Coming with her or fighting it?
He barely let her catch her breath before urging her with a hand cupping her hip. She tightened around him again and the process began again. Totally in his control, she danced along a knife's edge of delight and desperation.
Twice more he took her to the brink of madness before allowing her release with a murmured, "Come for me, girl."
Twice more, the slave sobbed and shook in his hands, learni
ng to focus on her master's permission, learning to await his command before taking her pleasure. Exhaustion finally took control, as it inevitably did. Her muscles trembled around him, fatigue shimmering in her eyes.
That's when he unleashed his hunger.
* * * *
Abby cried out as her awareness shifted, her universe contracting until there was only Seth. He fucked like a force of nature, completely unstoppable and as varied as the ocean's waves. He used sharp, medium strokes; slow, deep caresses; short, hard-driving penetrations that shook the bed; and languid incursions that caused her to sob her delight.
His gaze, icy blue shot with a primal light, snared hers. He stared down at her, while she withered beneath him, gasping, her soul shuddering beneath his assault. She shook and clutched around him, straining for breath, straining for the ultimate prize hovering just out of her reach.
"More," she moaned, "please, more..."
He broke eye contact. Glancing aside, he closed his eyes as his expression was etched by an overwhelming intensity. His body hardened into knots of silken steel. Low words wrenched from him...something in his native language. His spine rolled from his shoulders down to his hips, pulling him nearly out of her before he slammed forward, driving his cock into her cunt with a final thrust that took her over the edge with him.
Together, they shook and shuddered, trembled and shivered, clenched and jerked--dear God, was he purring?
Seth kissed his way down the valley between her breasts. She held him as he relaxed, stroking his shoulders and rubbing her toes along the back of his thighs, basking the echoes of shared passion and the soul-deep aftershocks of fantastic sex. Quietly, almost as an afterthought, he murmured into the skin of her neck, "You are so yummy."
He'd called her yummy! Wasn't that so damned cute?
At last, and with a long groan, Seth eased out of her and collapsed onto the bed beside her. Face buried in her pillows, he slung his heavy left arm over her stomach and yawned. She snuggled into his embrace. Together, their bodies cooled, but questions bubbled in her mind.
"I didn't know men could be multi-orgasmic."
A grunt was his only answer.
"That was you multi-orgasmic, wasn't it?" If not, she was about to become very embarrassed.
"It doesn't happen very often and it's not to my preference."
"It's not?" Abby was nearly speechless. What an amazing thing to say, she thought, considering the never-ending rapture she experienced. Not to his preference?
"It feels like it's not done, like I've been interrupted. The pressure is still there, so I keep trying to finish so my balls don't blow up."
She giggled. "They wouldn't really blow up, Master."
"I'm not willing to risk it."
She couldn't help but giggle again, even as Seth nuzzled his nose into her hair. He gave another yawn and yanked the blankets over them. She sighed and snuggled into his arm and the lamb's wool softness of the bedspread.
"Master, may I ask another question?"
"It doesn't mean you're guaranteed an answer."
His answer was so typical. "I understand."
"Ask."
"What do you do for a living?"
"Eye-tea."
It took a moment for her to translate, then she had to digest the information. He didn't appear like any I.T. professional she'd ever met. Well-muscled, but not gym-cut, he had power within him and about him, something not commonly found with desk jockeys. There was also his sun-kissed skin, which didn't speak of hours hunched over computer monitors. "You have a tanning salon at your desk?"
He rumbled his amusement. "I volunteer with the Coast Guard. That's where I was last night, in fact. A training run we'd scheduled months ago was interrupted by a boat capsized on Peacock Spit."
Well, that explained it. Cloudy or not, the sun's ultraviolet rays would generate some color. Not Los Angeles-beach-tan, sure, but some color. While she had no idea what a peacock spit was, she did understand what it meant for a boat to capsize. "Is everyone okay?"
His huge yawn caused his jaw to pop. "Of course they are. We were nearby."
She felt his lazy smile against her cheek.
"Master, Liz called. She wants to know if she's allowed to share what happened the other night with Annabel with the kennel."
He shrugged. "Share away."
"But...is it true? Did you really beat and cage Jeremy's slave?"
Seth raised his head from the pillows to frown down into her face. "Do you think me incapable?"
"Of course not, Master, but..." The chance of offending him with either answer ran high, so she came up with a third option. "We shouldn't spread false rumors."
He lowered his head to the pillow and squirmed to get comfortable, shoving her closer to the edge to take up more space on the mattress. "It behooves me to allow gossip of that type to populate the kennel."
"Then...it's true?" Astonishing!
His voice was muffled by the pillow, but was clear enough when he asked, "Again, do you think me incapable?"
Yes? No? Not her business, she reminded herself and vowed to say out of whatever happened between Seth and Annabel. This was a good decision, she realized, because Seth relaxed beside her without further comment. Apparently, he'd said all he would about that topic.
"May I ask another question, Master?"
"Ask."
"Why don't you own any slaves?"
Seth tensed. "Not much of a master if a man is without slaves?"
"Well, it does seem odd..." She worried the concept around her mind for a bit. "Shouldn't the local slave trainer own slaves?" And what did that have to do with the faceless specter, Mara?
"Because he needs to prove himself?" Seth nearly snarled the counter-question.
Good grief! "I'm not sure how I've insulted you, Master. I ask only because I'm still trying to learn how things in this lifestyle work."
Well, not only for reason. She also wanted to know if he'd ever own her, but for that to happen, she'd need to know why he didn't own slaves. Information he didn't need, however. A wise girl bided her time when snaring a difficult man.
Seth's body didn't relax. "I chose to change my title from slave master to slave trainer. It was not forced upon me."
Silence fell between them. Abby struggled with the things unsaid. "But why--"
"Enough," Seth barked.
And those things would clearly remain unsaid, at least for tonight.
Beside her, he relaxed again, muscle by muscle. Abby cradled him, stroking the delicious landscape of his chest and abs, as well as the arm slung over her stomach. His breathing slowed...eased...and he slipped into sleep. She cuddled him, caressed him, and smiled when he began to snore softly.
"What have you learned to day, girl?" she whispered into the quiet room before answering herself. "Today I learned the dreaded Scots warrior, Mr. Seth Taylor himself, is as mortal as the rest of us."
Chapter 16
"Ready or not, Seth will arrive promptly at three o'clock," Liz warned from her end of the phone.
Abby smiled. She hardly needed the warning, having become quite familiar with Seth's punctuality in the past two weeks. She drew a sheer curtain aside and peeked out the front window. A crystal blue sky twinkled in the mid-afternoon sun. Fluffy white clouds dotted the sky above. Geese winged north in an arrow-shaped flock. Red tulips and yellow daffodils nodded in the spring breeze.
"It's your graduation day. Are you ready to meet the community as Seth's newest graduate?" Liz's enthusiasm was contagious.
She couldn't help but smile. "Yes, but Jeremy had better not get any ideas." Memories of their introduction still bothered her. She hadn't given him permission to touch her person. Slave or not, that was not okay with her.
"No worries there. Annabel is gone, and he's quite reduced." She laughed. "Get it? Reduced?"
She groaned over the horrid pun, then sucked in her breath as Seth's car entered her driveway, coming to a stop. He stepped out of the vehicle and approa
ched the door, the aviator sunglasses on his face reflecting the sun's light. His shirt hugged his torso due to the same wind that ruffled his hair. His jeans--always a pair of jeans--caressed his well-muscled legs. God, he was gorgeous! He was also, unsurprisingly, right on time.
Straightening, she let the curtain fall back into place. "He's here. Gotta run."
"See you soon," Liz said. "Oh, and I made my famous cheesecake just for you."
"Awesome! There'd better be some left when I get there." She disconnected the call to the sound of Liz's laughter.
The soft chime of the doorbell tumbled though the house. She was forced to pause for a moment to settle her stomach before answering the summons. His arrival always gave her butterflies, but in a good way.
Catching up her purse, she hurried to the door and flung it open. "Are you ready for the munch, Master?"
Instead of returning her smile, he pulled the sunglasses from his face and hung them on his collar. His expression was neither cold nor cruel, but that he had something on his mind was obvious. "I have a taste for something else, girl, but the decision is yours."
"Has something happened?" she asked. Punishment? Had she erred in some way?
He ignored her question. "I offer you a choice, girl. Accompany me to the munch, where I'll introduce you to the community as the newest kennel bitch--"
She blinked at the description.
"Or spend the time with me. Here."
Then a memory arrived and she chuckled. "You're worried I'll tell everyone you fell asleep?"
"Shut it," he snapped, probably referring to her mouth and not the door.
The arrival of a splash of red staining his cheeks caused giggles. "Seriously, Master. After those two busy evenings atop of your regular work schedule, I doubt anyone would blame you for falling asleep."
He scowled. "That never happened."
The expression on his face... Abby gave a soft laugh and tossed her purse onto the floor behind her. She leaned into him, dancing her fingers up his stomach and chest. Her mouth took a journey of butterfly-light kisses along his jaw and chin since he stood several inches taller than she. "But if we don't attend the graduation won't we insult everyone?"
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